Bubblegum Crisis: Innocent Guilt
by Purple Knight Saber
Summary: It is the year 2037. Priss just wants to relax after coming home from her world tour, but after being ambushed in a dark alley one night, her whole world changes forever... Rated M for references to sexual assault and for language.
1. Prologue

A rumble filled the night sky as my mind began to reluctantly emerge from the darkness. My eyes still closed, my other senses slowly came back to me. Hearing came first, followed by touch; I could feel myself lying on my stomach on what felt like cold asphalt, then I became aware of a warm fluid on my right side, making my shirt stick to my skin.

_What the hell?_

I couldn't remember at first how I had ended up here; all I was aware of was the dull stinging sensation on my side, the pounding in my head, and the throbbing on various places of my body. I lay there for I dunno how long, trying to remember. A fight? And then it hit me...I'd been ambushed. That one guy who'd hit on me at the Hot Legs nightclub...he'd been the one that'd attacked me. The last thing I remembered was being hit over the head with a brick. Said brick was laying by my outstretched arm, small bloodspots staining the edges. I gingerly lifted my head up, wincing at the pounding that ensued, and looked over my shoulder to see if he was hiding anywhere. After not hearing anything besides the traffic in the street outside of the alley and the rain that had started to come down, I pushed myself up to my hands and knees, then rolled over onto my back. I gritted my teeth, trying to will away this damned pain that was overwhelming my head, my side, between my legs...

I felt my blood run cold. Between my legs? The hell did that mean? Just because my pants at the moment were pulled down to my knees...that didn't mean...

_No, no. Maybe I just got drunk and got into a fight at Hot Legs and passed out here. That...that couldn't have happened. That bastard...he didn't really do what he did. No way. Not to me._

Cliché thoughts, perhaps, but that was likely the egotistical side of me speaking; I had a reputation to uphold, after all. I'd been known to take my share of licks, but beaten like this? No, that couldn't be. And...violated? Like hell THAT was true! Priss Asagiri is a world-famous singer, not a fucking statistic! That couldn't be right!

Even with the shit I've gone through over the years...things of that sort couldn't happen to me. But at the moment, it seemed like it had.


	2. A Night to Not Remember

I couldn't remember how I got home; one moment I'd been struggling to my feet in the alley, and the next I was at the door to my apartment, fumbling with the keys. Maybe that brick to the head had turned my brain to mush; all my keys looked the same. I didn't know which one was the right one. I resorted to trial and error to figure out which one it was, and once I got the right one, I shoved open the door and stumbled through.

_Damn…I don't remember my place being this dark…_

Suddenly I felt self-conscious, being alone in my dark apartment, the glow of the florescent bulbs leaking in from the hallway being the only source of lighting. I fumbled for the switch to the halogen lamp by my couch, and once it was on, I shuffled back to the door and quickly shut it, sliding the locks into place, then checking about four or five times to make sure I hadn't forgotten one. Something else I'd briefly forgotten about – my stab wound – started to throb, along with all my other bruises and wounds. I gritted my teeth in frustration as I peeled my shirt off of me and tossed it aside, and by the time I'd made it to the bathroom, I was naked, a trail of bloody clothes behind me like a shadow.

I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water as hot as I could. Once the spray greeted me in the face, I welcomed it eagerly, putting my head and body under the stream. Contrary to what somebody might think about putting fresh wounds under hot water, my bruises actually seemed to be soothed by it. The gaping wound in my side suddenly didn't seem to matter so much, either. When I opened my eyes and looked down, I could see the blood-tinged water twirling down the drain like in the infamous shower scene in _Psycho_. It was my blood going down that drain. I didn't think I'd seen myself bleed that much in years…

* * *

I opened my eyes, and suddenly I found myself freezing cold, and not only that, but being drenched in it. I looked up and realized I was still in the shower stall, but on the tile floor; did I pass out? I must've, 'cause I didn't remember lying down, and I certainly wouldn't have let myself stay in there long enough to let the water turn so cold. Bracing myself against the wall, I stood up on wobbly feet and turned off the water. I wrung out my drenched hair, only to wince in pain when the pressure made my head start to throb yet again.

_God…how many times did he hit me over the head with that damn brick? Twice woulda done the job fine!_

I grabbed a towel off the rack and gingerly dried my body off, and amazingly enough, when I was done it wasn't bloodstained at all; the bleeding must've stopped while I was passed out in the shower. I dried off my hair, tossed the towel aside, then turned and dared to take a look at myself in the mirror. Who was that staring back at me? I didn't recognize that girl; that wasn't me with the blackened and bloodshot eyes, swollen nose, cut lip, scrapes on the forehead and cheeks. With my hand, I touched my nose and winced at the pain that shot through it.

The girl in the mirror winced too. She also winced when I did when with one jerk of my hand, I snapped my nose back into place.

"It is me. Holy shit, that IS me."

No…no, this didn't happen. Part of me still didn't want to believe that this had happened. Well, the mental part, at least. The physical part of me was screaming with the truth. I just wanted to shut them both up. I had to. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more.

I managed somehow to bandage up my side wound with a gauze pad and some rolled-up self-sticking bandages; maybe it was something that had rubbed off on me after seeing Sylia do it on me more than once during our vigilante days. Oh, hell, it didn't matter where I learned it; for the moment, at least, my side had stopped protesting so much. I went to the bedroom and threw on an oversized shirt and some skimpy panties that would touch as little of my bruised skin as possible. I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled, still-damp hair as I headed to the kitchen and dug through my cabinets for something to drink. My hand found a large, still-mostly-full bottle of vodka. I dragged it out, then popped a few pain pills, chasing them down with a swig of the vodka. I licked my lips, savoring the taste, then took another swig, and another. Before I knew it, I'd drunk half of what was left.

_That'll shut my body up. Good night, ladies._


	3. The Bottle is Your Friend

The next few days were a blur; the only things I really recall were laying on the couch with a bottle of liquor nearby to help dull the pain in my body as well as to dull my thoughts. I had the TV on constantly, thinking that some boring program would help get my mind off of things, but even attempting to put semi-coherent thoughts together made my head throb. And besides, I dunno if my mind could get off things if it wasn't on anything to begin with; it felt very off-kilter, off-balance, whatever you wanna call it.

Those first days, I was so out of it that despite the pain in my side, I didn't get around to changing the bandage on that wound until it was soaked through in blood and the blood had dried and was chafing my skin. Only then did I bother to get off my ass to get a fresh gauze pad. Tearing off that old one hurt like a bitch; I tried ripping it off in one fell swoop, but even so it hurt so bad that I drew blood from my lip when I was biting it to keep from screaming. A wonder that that wound never got infected.

Naturally, having not heard from me since the night we went out to Hot Legs, Linna or Nene were bound to get a little worried about me. So when Linna called me up, I wasn't surprised. But was I gonna let her know what had happened to me after she and Nene had left? Hell no. Lucky for me I hadn't invested in a good ol' vidphone yet. She would've freaked out if she saw my face.

"Today we're supposed to be going to Survival Shot, remember?" she reminded me.

_Damn, that was today? Lost track o' time..._ "Now I do," I said flatly. "Tell Sylia and Nene I'm not gonna show up."

"Huh?" She sounded confused. "Why's that? You CAN afford to foot half the bill for dinner if we lose again, so if it's about the money, that's not going to work." She chuckled.

"It's not the damn money." ...Although it did seem like Linna and I lost every time we went up against Sylia and Nene in a round of paintball at Survival Shot... "I just ain't up to it at the moment."

A pause. A shitty excuse, and both of us knew it. "Not up to it? Did something happen? You do sound a little...I don't know...unusual."

"Unusual," I repeated, practically spitting the word. "Right."

"Priss, are you sure everything is ok?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Dandy. PEACHY. Ok?!" I slammed the receiver down, only to jump when my side flared up in pain. I grabbed it and winced in pain, leaning against the kitchen table for support. I took a few deep ragged breaths, feeling beads of sweat form on my forehead.

_Yeah, I'm peachy keen, Linna. A stab wound, concussion, broken nose, lotsa bruises all over...sure, nothing Priss can't handle._

I cursed under my breath and shuffled over to the fridge and snatched a fresh bottle of vodka from it. Popping it open, I took a swig from it as I made my way back over to the living room couch. I licked the flavor off my lips, then sat down and took another swig.

Just a beating, I wanted to say. Just got beat up is all. Yeah, I got stabbed, but I'd been stabbed before. I could take care of myself. Let me do my own worrying. Didn't need anybody worrying about me. But I guess the fact I hadn't talked to anyone or left my apartment since the attack several days earlier was gonna eventually tip someone off. My status as a celebrity certainly wasn't going to work in my favor, either. But they didn't need to know anything; not Linna, not Sylia, not Nene, not my band members, not the tabloids, nobody. I could take care of myself just fine, or so I thought.

_Hey, bitch. If you can take care o' yourself, then how'd you let THAT happen to ya, huh?!_

No...I hadn't LET it happen... If I'd let it, I wouldn't have fought back! And what was 'that,' anyway? Musta been a wild figment of my imagination! That guy wasn't really on top of me, he wasn't really...inside me... No, no, no... Just a beating, that's all it was. Must've been just that!!

It made my head hurt to have these thoughts rampaging through my skull. I grabbed the bottle of vodka and let at it until I was too drunk to even be able to hold it. I flopped down on my stomach on the couch, dropped the bottle to the floor, and passed out.


	4. A Game of Survival

It wasn't until about two weeks after I got beat up that I was willing to leave my apartment. The basic reasons – running out of food and toilet paper and the like – were part of it, but also just to get some fresh air, since my apartment was starting to reek of booze. My bruises had faded, but not completely, so I had to cover them up with make-up so as not to draw any attention, aside from the usual autograph seekers, anyway. My side was still tender, but I was healed up enough that I could walk down the street and look fine. But, since my head was still bothering me, I went outside wearing a dark pair of shades, so that the sunlight wouldn't aggravate it too much.

A few days after I started venturing out again, I even decided to take part in a round of paintball at Survival Shot with the girls. As usual, Linna and I were the ones attacking a building, and Sylia and Nene were the ones defending it. Linna snuck into the building through a window on the main level, while I stayed outside, hiding behind one of the fake bushes. I listened intently for any indications that she was in trouble, but the only response I got was a volley of rounds fired, followed by a high-pitched scream from our redheaded friend.

"Aaaargh!" I heard Nene complain loudly. "I thought I had you this time!"

"Not today," Linna replied smugly.

I grunted to myself; Nene always seemed to be something of a sore loser, but thankfully she never complained for long. I took another look towards the building and noticed a wall of vines on one side. I strapped my paintball gun to my back, then crawled on hands and knees towards the wall. I stopped and grabbed my side when it started to throb, but after a few seconds I felt good enough to keep going. Once I reached the wall, I grabbed ahold of some of the vines and started my climb towards the second-floor window.

I don't know how long it took me to get up to that window; I know I stopped and gasped for air at least twice, due to the pain in my side. I bit my lip and kept going, and when I reached the window, I grabbed the windowsill and thrust my body through the opening. I landed hard on my side, letting out a cry in pain as I had landed on my injured side. Go fig. I heard someone running towards the room I was in, but by the time I got to my feet, it was too late. I heard several cracks in the air, followed by several paintball rounds hitting me square in the chest.

"Damn, lost," I muttered, grimacing as I stared down at the red blotches on my fatigues.

"You were careless today, Priss," Sylia cautioned. "Seems Nene and I win again."

"Lemme guess: Ragu Steakhouse, our treat."

"Yes. And afterwards, I have something to ask you."

"Fine, alright."

Dinner was uneventful; Linna stuffed her face as usual, trying to get her money's worth, while Sylia talked to Nene about her plans to expand her Silky Doll shop into other markets, like Sapporo, Nara, and Osaka. I just sat there, mostly listening to the others as I'd shove a piece of steak into my mouth with the fork in my right hand, then taking a sip of sake from the glass in my left.

_What am I doing? Sylia's already suspecting something is up, and Linna won't stop giving me weird looks. Maybe I shoulda stayed in my apartment a while longer or somethin'._

Linna may have gotten her money's worth, but I didn't – I normally would've cleaned my plate, but this time, when I felt I was done, the plate was still half-full of food. And after dinner, as I got on my motorcycle and pulled on my helmet, Sylia, true to her word, came up to me with the question she said she was going to ask me.

"It's not like you to be as careless as you were today," she noted. "I know you missed the last two training sessions we held, but that is no excuse to be rusty."

"I wasn't rusty," I said flatly, starting up my bike. "Like you said, I just got careless. That won't happen again."

"I should hope not. Had I been a Boomer, you would be dead now."

"I get it, I get it."

"Perhaps you should go to Linna's gym and spar with her. Our weekly sessions shouldn't be the only workout you're getting. Nene could use some pointers as well."

"It's hard to teach combat instinct to a computer geek," I said cheekily. "I'll see you around."

Sylia never brought up another word of my 'carelessness' after that, but for the next few training sessions after that, it did seem like I ended up doing something that cost me and Linna a win. And when we went to Raven's Garage and fought on the training simulator instead of playing paintball, it seemed like I just couldn't beat Level Seven if my life had depended on it. Linna kept chastising me for it, saying I needed to get my head in the moment instead of having it drift elsewhere.

_Dammit, don't you think I know that, Linna?! You're stuck on Level Eight, so why're you getting on MY ass about being stuck on Level Seven?_

For some reason, I just didn't have the heart to snap back at her with some smart-ass remark. I just stayed silent and pretended I didn't hear her. But I had, and my head wouldn't let me forget her sometimes hurtful remarks. Why were her remarks bugging me, anyway? Normally they wouldn't. Even on the occasions when Nene would call me an 'apewoman,' I'd just let it bounce off my back. But now...I couldn't shake 'em, even the slightest insults. And I hated it. Furthermore, I didn't understand why I was suddenly so sensitive. Didn't make sense.

After that session at Raven's Garage, Sylia, Nene, and Linna all left, and then it was just me, Mackie, and the Doc himself there.

"Oh, Sis forgot her cigarettes," Mackie said, noticing a half-empty pack sitting on the counter.

"It's a nasty habit anyway," Pops said, cleaning off his wrench. "If I were you, I'd throw them away."

"Give 'em here," I said, holding out my hand.

"Why?" Mackie asked, blinking curiously.

"I'll give 'em back to her next time I see her." He shrugged and dropped the pack into my hands.

I opened up the pack to see how many were left in there. I counted a total of eight. Virginia Slim Lights, her brand of choice. Why'd she pick the light kind? It wasn't like she'd get cancer any slower if she smoked that kind instead of the regular ones. I plucked a cigarette out of the pack, then struck a match and lit it, putting the cigarette in my mouth.

"What're you doing?" Pops asked incredulously. "You don't smoke!"

"You're right, I don't," I agreed, exhaling a plume of smoke, letting out a cough at the same time. "What's it to ya, Pops?"

"The name is Doctor, but I don't know why I bother telling you that when you won't call me such. And as for what it is to me, for one, those are Sylia's, and plus you don't smoke. It's a filthy habit and you should know it's a lot easier to start than it is to quit."

"Keep your pants on, she won't notice if only one is missing." I took another puff. "And if I wanna die of lung cancer, that's my choice."

"Something bugging you, Priss?" Mackie asked. "You usually don't—"

"Don't what?" I snapped. "Don't smoke?"

"Yeah, and plus you've been looking a little...under the weather."

"It's January. I'm probably getting a cold, that's all."

"All right, Mackie, stop asking so many questions," Pops said. "But Priss, if you do insist on you at least step away from the gasoline you're standing by?"

I tossed what was left of the cigarette to the ground, making both him and Mackie jump in surprise. Before they could run to put it out, I ground it under my heel.

"That's alright, I'm done with it anyway. And damn, you really think I'd light this place on fire on purpose? I'm not THAT stupid."

"Thank God," the old man groaned.

"She's just trying to rile you up, Dr. Raven," Mackie tried to assure him.

"And she does a damn good job of it, too."

"That I do," I admitted, forcing a smirk. "But I'm leavin' now. Don't wantcha to have a heart attack before you're due, Pops."

"Get out of here, girl," he said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "And—"

"Call you Doctor?" I finished.

"Yes, please."

"How 'bout Doc?"

"Um, no."

"Would you prefer Gramps?"

"Go, go. And even if I wanted to be called that, I can't. I don't even have any children, let alone grandchildren."

"Ain't too late for that," I joked before hopping on my bike. "But I bet if Sylia had any kids you'd be happy to be their god-grandpa or whatever."

Pops actually smiled a little at that. "Maybe."

"Sis, a mother? Not in my lifetime," Mackie laughed, shaking his head at the thought.

"No, imagine Priss here as a mother," Pops added, joining the chorus.

"Ha!! No way!"

"I'm not the motherly type," I interjected.

"No kidding!"

"Ah, shaddap. I like kids, but do I want any of my own? Not anytime soon, thanks! I'd probably have a hard enough time taking care of a dog!" I revved up my bike and peeled out of there, shouting a quick "See ya" to them.

A dog...hmph. Back when I lived in my own trailer, I'd see an occasional stray dog wander by, and I'd give him scraps of whatever food I had, but none of them could've been what you'd call a pet. I was just someone who made sure they didn't have to go to sleep hungry. Seemed like that was the best I could do for anything or anybody, even Sho. Sho, I really liked him; he was almost like a kid brother, and whenever his mom was working late, I'd treat him to dinner. But could I have raised him by myself like the way his mom did before she died? Nuh-uh.

She was admirable. Me, I'm too much the self-centered type to be able to watch over someone or something else full-time. The only one I cared to do that for was myself, and my friends, whenever we were in battle. But I didn't have to worry about that anymore. Our Knight Saber days were over...at least for now.

It was funny how I'd used 'dog' for my analogy instead of 'cat'...it made me cringe inside, remembering that my attacker had called me a bitch as he tried to get me to hold still for him. Bitch, female dog.... Then again, what would he have called me in terms of cat analogy? A pussy? Heh...fitting, that.

Damn bastard. I knew that I would slit his throat the next chance I got alone with him. But part of me was...afraid?...of even the possibility of that happening. But why? He wasn't really any different from the other punks I'd fought back when I lived on the streets; what made him so unique, so...dare I say... special?

Oh, fuck. Why was I dwelling on thoughts of HIM?! Did it really matter to me whether I ever saw him again or not? Well, sure...I wanted to be the one to end his miserable excuse for a life, but if someone else decided to be the one to put a bullet in his forehead, by all means, I'd let him have at it.


	5. It's Only the Flu

It was true that I hadn't exactly felt like I was at full strength the past couple days; I figured maybe I just wasn't getting enough sleep, or I was coming down with something. Sure enough, not long after I started feeling sick, my neighbors all started coming down with the flu. The woman who lived right next door to me, Tilda -- whom I'd also known as a kid, before the second Kanto quake – got it especially bad. Me, I usually try to keep away from sick people so I don't get sick myself, unless it's a sick kid. Can't help but feel sorry for a kid with a fever of a hundred-and-two. But Tilda, I dunno…something in me wanted to help her out, and despite the well-known fact I was not exactly a chef, I managed to make a pot of soup and take it next door to her place.

"I bet you're just trying to get me to stop keeping you up at night with my praying to the porcelain god," she quipped, sipping her soup.

"Nobody likes being sick," I admitted. "And 'sides, I'm sick too, it's not like I'd get any sicker coming over here."

Tilda chuckled. "I appreciate your help, Priscilla. I'll be sure to return the favor."

"I don't need any."

"Not right now, perhaps, but later on."

I shrugged and played along. "Right, ok."

The next morning, before I could even roll out of bed, I was overcome with a huge wave of nausea making its way up my throat. I leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. I stuck my head in there and puked for five or ten minutes straight.

_Damn, try to do something nice for a neighbor, and this happens! Gee, thank you, karma!_

When I was finally done, I slumped against the side of the bathtub, sweat making my bangs stick to my forehead. I felt SO much better now, the calm after the storm, I suppose. But my body resisted any attempt to rise from its present position, so I sat there for a while, the taste of vomit still on my tongue. Then, when I remembered I had some mouthwash in the cupboard, I crawled over to the one under the sink, grabbed the bottle, and took in a mouthful of the minty-tasting stuff. I swished it around in my mouth, spat in the toilet, then took in another mouthful and spat that out too. After flushing the toilet, I slowly got to my feet and rinsed my mouth out properly.

I shook my head in disbelief as I saw how white my face was when I looked in the mirror. I'd been sick before, had the flu more times than I cared to remember, but I could never recall being sick like this. Unfortunately, for the next week or so, the bathroom ritual became routine. Run to the bathroom, empty my stomach, rinse with mouthwash…ugh. After the second or third day I learned to keep the bottle of mouthwash out so I wouldn't have to crawl to the cupboard to get it. Stubborn bug this was!

I didn't think much of the fact that besides my puking sessions in the morning, I'd feel great for the rest of the day. Hell, if someone spent their morning puking their guts out, I bet they'd feel great for the rest of the day too! One day when I felt ravenous for some steak, I invited Linna out for lunch at a local steakhouse, my treat. She accepted, of course; she'd never turn down a meal ticket. The meal took a strange turn, though, when she noticed that I was sick. I felt fine though, so the question was a little startling.

"You look kinda pale," she noted, shoving her fork in her mouth. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine," I said, shaking off the initial shock. I'd just about cleaned my plate; who would think I was sick? "Just been having the flu for the past few days."

"The flu, huh? Have you thrown up at all?"

_Hello?! I have the flu, of course I've been throwing up!!_

"In the mornings. Why?"

Before Linna could get an answer out of her mouth, I felt that familiar wave of nausea attack me again. I wasn't used to it coming in the afternoon, so I wasn't expecting it at all. I didn't even have time to excuse myself before I jumped out of my seat and ran straight for the bathroom, promptly giving my just-eaten lunch to the toilet. As good as that lunch had been, it definitely didn't taste as good coming up as it did going down.

I heard steps behind me, and knew it had to be Linna. "A 'flu,' huh?" she asked, her voice echoing in the empty bathroom. "When was the last time you got your period?"

"My per—" I started to say, then shook my head as I thought. Come to think of it…I hadn't paid much attention to that at all. Compared with the other shit going on, something like that was just…trivial. "Haven't been paying attention. Why the hell are you asking about that, anyway?" Some subject change that was, from a flu to my menstrual cycle! What was she thinking?

"Well, if you've missed one, there's another possibility besides a little bug."

Ah. So that's what she was getting at. As sick as I felt right now, I had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. "Wh… You're KIDDING me!" I exclaimed, finally letting out a laugh, a nervous one. But why? I didn't have any reason to be nervous…or at least I didn't think I had one. "Are you suggesting I'm pregnant?"

"Look, if you think you've been fooling me, you're wrong. You don't think that I've noticed you walking around in pain, and the bruises that you tried covering up with make-up? Priss, I used to be a dancer. I know all the tricks people can play with make-up. What happened?"

Damn. She was better than I gave her credit for.

"N…nothing happened!" I retorted. "I just got into a fight!" It was the truth, and I was known to get into my share of fights. No reason to lie about it. Linna didn't really look like she believed me, though. But it WAS the truth, even if I was only telling part of it. The other details weren't important.

"Just a fight?" she said sadly, gazing at me as if she was feeling sorry for me. That pissed me off; I didn't need anybody feeling sorry for me! "I don't know if I can believe that. Those wounds, plus the fact you've been throwing up in the mornings…." She trailed off for a brief moment. "It's been about three months, right?"

_What the fuck is she saying?! That's impossible!_

"I don't want to hear this!" I declared, standing up. I wiped my mouth with some toilet paper, tossed it in the toilet, and strode right past Linna and out of the restaurant. Coincidence…that's all it was. Me not remembering when I got my last period, that 'incident' a few months ago… Hell, with me being so damn stressed out lately, no wonder I couldn't keep anything straight! I drove away before Linna had a chance to catch up with me, and although I inadvertently stuck her with the bill in the process, that was the last thing on my mind.

I didn't head straight home, though. After I was on the highway for a while, I pulled off to the side of the road, and not to enjoy the scenery, either, unless you consider pollution-stained buildings to be picturesque. I whipped out the half-empty pack of cigarettes that I still hadn't given back to Sylia, and took out another one. I lit it and took a long drag out of it, then exhaled, watching the plume of smoke dance in front of my face. As it vanished, I took another drag on the cigarette and blew more smoke in front of me. Hmph…that's what my life had seemed to become lately, something that went up in smoke. But there were many other times I felt like it'd done just that; how did I know I couldn't rebuild it just like I'd done before?

I would and I could; I was determined of that. But as Linna later proved, I would have to adjust my plans a little bit.

* * *

"Oh, this again," I grumbled.

The day after I walked out on her at the restaurant, Linna had decided to pay a surprise visit to my apartment. She had pulled a pregnancy test from her purse and waved it in front of my face.

"Look," she said, "you're the only one who knows if this is possible. So just go into the bathroom and take the test."

I stood there with my hands on my hips, refusing to take the test she held out to me. "I don't need to piss on a stick to know the test'll come up negative," I asserted.

"To put your mind at ease, please. I know that you think it's possible. Just looking at you gives it away."

I could feel my eyebrow twitch. Why did she have to be so damn persistent? May as well pacify her, I figured… I snatched the thing from her hand. "If it'll make you get off my ass about it, fine. Be right back."

I turned on my heels and strode to the bathroom, determined to just get this thing over with. I knew it was gonna turn out negative; why didn't Linna believe me? I guess I would have to prove her wrong. Once in the bathroom, I snatched a paper cup, filled it with water, then slammed it down. I repeated the process about five times before it felt like my bladder was gonna burst. I opened the box, took out the test, then sat down on the toilet with my pants down and peed on the stick like the directions on the box told me to do. I flushed and stood up, looking at the test once the requisite minute or so had passed, and I swore my body went numb as soon as I saw the results.

Two lines.

Did that mean what I thought it meant? I read the box again to see what two lines meant, then looked at the test, then the box again. A mistake! A goddamned mistake! It HAD to be!! I even shook the stick several times, but the two lines stared me in the face the same as before. I blinked several times, wondering if I had double vision, but…damned if they weren't still there.

_One line, I'd be in the clear…but two, that's…that's impossible. No, no, I'm…I'm not…I can't be… Oh…God… He did it…he really… I have a part of him in me…_

I did the only thing I could possibly have done at that moment. I screamed.

Linna came running into the bathroom, alarmed. "What's wrong?!" she asked.

"NO!!" I screamed, punching the wall. "No!! I can't be pregnant! No way in hell!!"

"Huh?!"

"He actually got me pregnant with his kid!!" I screamed again and kicked the wall.

"You mean you're…?!"

_Duh!! What do you think I just said?!_

I sunk to my knees, one hand against the wall. "N…no way… I'm…I'm pregnant…" And then, I started to cry. Linna bent down and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Priss, I…I don't know what to say…"

"I can't be a mom! This wasn't…it wasn't…!"

_It wasn't supposed to happen… I can't be…_

"Wasn't planned?" Linna gasped. "Oh no…you mean…that 'fight' you got into…"

I nodded grimly, biting my lip. I'd lost fights before, but never with consequences like this. Of course, I'd never lost in a way like that, either, with a guy on top of me…

"You…you were raped?"

My body jerked at hearing that word. I never wanted that word to apply to me. I never thought it would, ever. I mean, this was ME that we were talking about! Nene seemed more the type who'd be ambushed by a stranger, not…not me…

"Announce it to the world, why dontcha," I said, my voice choking.

"Who was it?" she asked sternly, putting both hands on my shoulders. "Who did it?!"

"What does it matter now?!" I snapped, wiping away the tears from my face. "It's not gonna change a damn thing! I'm having his kid!!"

"Priss, you have to make him responsible for what he's done! It won't do any good to keep it bottled up!"

_Right…like I could ask a bastard like that for child support…ain't gonna happen…_

"What would you know?" I croaked, breaking down again. I couldn't speak any more after that; I was too busy crying. Linna seemed like she knew better than to push the issue, 'cause all she did after that was hug me and hold me close to her. I wasn't used to that sort of body contact, and at first I tried to pull away, but I ended up staying where I was.

I couldn't just open up about something like this; the media, for one, would swarm upon me and my bandmates like vultures, wondering who was the father, if one of THEM was the father. And if they found out the truth, I knew I'd be on the front cover of every magazine and tabloid, and not for the reasons I'd want. The singer of the Replicants is bearing the child of her rapist! What now?

Well, to that, you know what I'd say? "Fuck you!"

And hell…'MY' rapist? No, he wasn't 'my' anything…just a sperm donor as far as I was concerned, except I wasn't exactly a willing recipient. And that led to another question that I could not ignore:

If Boomers started coming out again and the Knight Sabers were forced to go back into battle, what the hell was I supposed to do? I was pregnant now, and although I didn't know much about pregnancy, I knew that I wouldn't be able to fight while in that sort of condition.

…And yet, at the same time, I didn't think I could bring myself to abort this kid, either, even though I didn't know about its existence until a few minutes ago. It was a child, after all; I couldn't just kill it because of who its father was. It was as much my kid as it was his. I'd be killing a part of myself.

_Shit, what do I do?! I can't figure out what the right thing to do is!!_

For the first time in my life, I knew I had to ask for help. And I knew exactly who I would have to turn to.


	6. What about the Boomers?

The day after the unexpected surprise made itself known, Tilda, who'd heard all of my yelling through the thin wall that separated our apartments, came over to offer her support. I shoved her away though; I didn't want anyone around me at the moment. I needed this time to be alone, to think.

A kid. I loved kids, but had I ever wanted one of my own? Like I'd told Mackie and Pops a week or so earlier, I'd be lucky if I could take care of a dog. But damn, this wasn't some dream that I could wake up from. And ironically enough, my morning sickness seemed to ease up after I found out the news.

_What the hell do I do? A pregnant Knight Saber can't do shit…but…_

But…at the same time, I didn't think I'd ever be able to drag myself to a clinic and abort the kid. He, she, it…whatever it was deserved a chance. I ran my fingertip around the mouth of an empty beer bottle that was sitting on the living room table, deep in thought. I stared at the label on the bottle, not really reading the words on it, and then, something clicked.

What kind of chance would I be giving this kid if I kept boozing like I'd been doing the past three months? Had I already done too much damage by boozing so damn much? Had I done ANY damage? I cursed myself, then stood up and grabbed a large black trash bag from the cabinet underneath the sink. Walking around the kitchen, I snatched up any empty bottles that I'd left sitting out, then dropped them into the bag. Same with the ones in the living room and my bedroom, and any that still had anything left in 'em, I dumped out the remains in the sink and tossed them with the rest. Out of my jacket pocket, I fetched the pack of cigarettes I 'borrowed' from Sylia and dropped that into the bag as well.

If I was going to give the kid a chance at life…then I couldn't be doing the things I'd buried myself in lately. I couldn't cry in any more bottles, not now. I couldn't worry about myself anymore, couldn't feel sorry for myself; I had a kid to worry about now. Had to do what was best for the kid.

_Damn, I'm turning maternal already._

I tossed the bag over my shoulder and hauled it down to the ground floor of the apartment building, tossing it into a nearby dumpster. Once I got back up to my apartment, I was surprised by how different the place looked without all those bottles decorating the countertops and the floors. They'd kept me company in my misery, and…it was actually a little lonely without them already. I cursed myself again and smacked myself upside the head.

_Stop thinkin' like that, you bitch! The bottle ain't no friend of yours! That's partly how you got into this mess to begin with!_

"Damn it!!" I yelled to myself. That little voice inside of me was right; if I hadn't taken my eyes off of that margarita I was drinking at Hot Legs, the bastard wouldn't have had a chance to slip GHB into it. Carelessness on my part, and it bit me in the ass before I knew it. Didn't seem to matter what I did with the kid or not; I'd be paying for that for the rest of my life.

It was my fault. My fault that I'd been…violated. I cursed again and buried my face in my hands, starting to cry. I started to reach out for a beer bottle, but quickly remembered there were none. It was just me and my tears, no bottle to drown them in. Damn, it was hard to do without it, and that in turn made this mental agony all the more, well, agonizing. I just had to keep reminding myself it was for the best, even if it didn't feel like it right away.

* * *

A few days later, Linna came by and reminded me that we would have to tell Sylia and Nene about my situation sooner or later, noting that with how much my stomach would be due to grow, it couldn't stay a secret much longer. I reluctantly agreed, and so we both headed down to the Lady 633 building, where Sylia's penthouse as well as her Silky Doll shop was. Although I'd been planning to spill the beans myself, when it came down to it, I lost my nerve and just let Linna tell them.

"Well…Priss is three months pregnant."

Nene, who'd thought we thought somebody had died judging from the looks on our faces, suddenly brightened. "She's WHAT?! Oh wow, that's great!!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were gonna say something just awful!! Don't scare me like that!"

"Um, Nene…" Linna started to say, but Nene breezed right past her and ran up to me, grabbing one of my hands.

"I can't believe you're pregnant, Priss!!" I swore she looked absolutely giddy. "That's wonderful! I bet Leon's going to make a great dad!"

Assuming Leon was the dad didn't surprise me one bit. He'd been asking me out for years now, and I admit I'd dangled that carrot in front of him a few times, and that I even started to think of him as a decent guy, but him and me sharing the same bed? Not in this lifetime.

"Leon's not the dad," I mumbled.

"He…he's not?" She blinked in confusion, then turned to Linna. "Is that true?"

She nodded and said, "You wish he was."

"But who else would Priss sleep with?"

"WHAT?!" I snapped. "I've never—"

"But how else could you be pregnant?"

I was tempted to spit the words, "Immaculate conception," at her, but held my tongue. At best, I could've called it a forced one-night stand, but again, I didn't say anything.

"Nene…Priss was raped," Linna sighed.

The redhead turned to look at me, the light visibly disappearing from her eyes. She went from joyful to sullen in two seconds flat. "You…you were?" she asked, her face having gone pale. She cast her head down, trying to hide her tears as she fumbled for the right words to say. "I didn't know… I'm sorry…"

Nene was so damn naïve…but at the same time, so childishly sweet. "C'mere," I said, grabbing her arm. I pulled her close and started crying. Nene mumbled her apologies again and started crying right along with me.

"Well…I wasn't expecting that," Sylia admitted, her expression unreadable. She didn't hesitate in firing off her first question though. "So, Priss, what do you plan to do?"

I let go of Nene and looked up at her. "I…I don't know… It's not like this was very well thought-out…"

"Well, you need to think of something soon."

"I know…" I folded my arms over my chest, leaning against the wall like I'd been doing when Linna made the announcement. "If the Boomers start coming out again, I won't be able to help if I'm like this…I don't want to endanger any of you, but…"

"But?"

"But…it's not like it's the kid's fault for what happened. I can't abort it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I…don't know!" I wiped away the tears from my eyes. I KNEW she was going to ask that!! "What do you think I should do, Sylia? I can't…"

"It's not my decision to make, Priss." She walked towards me, stopping next to Linna. "This is your child. Whatever you decide to do is fine by the Knight Sabers."

Had I heard that right? Whatever my course of action was would be ok?! I blinked in surprise; I'd practically expected her to steer me one way or the other. "R…really?" I finally said.

"Of course." She smiled. "I can't tell you what to do. This is your decision and yours alone to make."

The tears started to roll freely down my cheeks, and I didn't bother to wipe them away. "S-Sylia…thank you…"

"Priss, I'll help out any way I can!" Nene reminded me. "We'll help you with the baby!"

"It's not the end of the world," Linna said. "For your baby, I'd say it's more like the beginning, actually!"

"But…the Boomers…" I started to say.

"I'm prepared for whatever situation can come up, Priss," Sylia said coolly. "You don't need to worry about that. Just take care of yourself and the baby."

It was more than a load off of my mind! I should've known Sylia would have contingency plans for something like that! Personally, I woulda bet on Linna getting pregnant first, not me. Oh well…one crisis averted, I suppose. I knew the months to come wouldn't be smooth sailing, though.


	7. I wish I were the dad

I don't think I need to go into details about the pregnancy itself. It was what anyone would expect it to be like: weird cravings, backaches, ankles so swollen you'd think they were gonna explode, mood swings – although Linna and Nene would say those were nothing new – stretch marks…

Oh yeah, one other thing. People wanting to touch my growing stomach.

I didn't mind my fellow Sabers, Mackie, or Pops touching it, wanting to feel the baby kick. I DID mind, however, when Leon McNichol himself and I crossed paths one day and he wanted to do just that.

"Priss…you're beautiful," he breathed, looking at me as if he were the proud father.

"Stop brownnosing. It's not going to work," I warned him.

"I'm not. Pregnancy really becomes you. You just have this glow all over." He reached out his hand. "Can I feel your stomach?"

"No."

"I just want to feel the baby kick."

"The baby's been kicking all day. Watch my stomach for long enough and you can actually see it move."

Before I could back away – my sore ankles not wanting to move anymore – Leon put his hand on my stomach, making me jump. I grabbed his wrist to shove his hand away when suddenly, the baby let out a hard kick against his hand. He actually jumped in surprise; I, on the other hand, actually winced in pain somewhat.

"Even the baby doesn't like you," I chuckled, then frowned and tossed his hand away. "Don't do that again! I told you not to!"

"I didn't mean any disrespect," he apologized quietly. "Sorry. I got carried away."

"Well, no shit. If you want to feel a pregnant woman's belly, go get a girlfriend and knock her up, then you'll be able to feel her belly all you want."

Leon looked hurt. "Is that what happened? Just some quick fling?"

_Why dontcha just call it a 'hump me, dump me,' asshole?_

"I don't want to get into it." I rubbed my belly with both hands to calm the baby down, who was now doing flip-flops.

"Well…I don't know much about babies, I admit, but if no one's around to help you raise it, then I can help."

"YOU want to be a dad?"

"Yes. I just wish that baby was mine."

"I bet," I replied, pulling a few pretzels out of the bag I'd just opened. I shoved them into my mouth and chomped on them noisily. "But it's not."

He and I talked for a few more minutes, mostly about bullshit nonsense, before parting ways. Part of me kinda felt sorry for him; he did seem honest about his desire to help me raise the baby. The other part of me still wasn't sure if he'd grown up beyond being the lady's man he fancied himself to be. I wasn't going to take that chance. I didn't need a man to help me raise the baby; I could do that on my own, and the other Sabers had made it perfectly clear they were ready to help in any way. They were all I needed.

* * *

That night, back in my apartment, I laid down on my side on my bed, a pillow tucked between my legs to help me get at least somewhat comfortable. I massaged my stomach slowly, humming a tune. Even though he or she wasn't born yet, I'd already been lulling it to sleep with some of my songs. Another maternal part of me, or was it because I was a singer?

Did it really matter, anyway?

I sang a few songs to the baby, continuing to massage my stomach. It certainly seemed to like it when I sang _Wasurenaide_. And tonight, I actually fell asleep in the middle of singing it.

_Aoi yami ni machi wa shizunde (The town sinks into blue darkness,)  
__Kaze ga otosu tameiki (and a sigh that entraps the wind)  
__Nemurenu mado o tataku. (strikes the sleepless window.)_

_Dooshiteru no? Imagoro kimi wa. (How are you doing these days?)  
__Sono mune o someru no ga (I hope that those are good dreams)  
__Yasashii yume da to ii ne. (coloring that heart of yours.)_

_Genki de iru ka? (Are you well?)  
__Sore dake ga itsumo kigakari. (That alone is always on my mind.)  
__Tsurai toki ni wa (When times get tough,)  
__Nakanaide nee hitori de… (don't cry alone, ok?...)_

Drifting in my sleep, I heard a baby laugh, and then it appeared, floating in my line of sight. It smiled, its head full of dark brunette hair, darker than my own. Its eyes, however, were the same shade of red as mine. It laughed again, reaching out to me.

"Hey…" I called out. "Are you…?"

It crawled away, not even dignifying me with a response, and then, my dream ended. I woke up, thinking for a moment that I had an infant in my arms. When I sat up, however, I had nothing there except a pillow I'd been clutching tight in my sleep. I smiled and laid back down.

So the baby didn't answer me. So what? Probably couldn't talk anyway; it was a baby, after all! Was that what my child was going to look like? I suppose I'd find out soon enough.


	8. Summer Surprise

When summer rolled around, I had the air conditioner in my apartment turned up full blast; being pregnant seemed to make everything thirty degrees hotter than it actually was. It made me feel a lot better though, but I couldn't say the same for Nene when she stopped by one afternoon.

"It's FREEZING in here!!" she yelped, shivering as she hugged herself.

"Better than being outside though, right?" I asked, pressing a heating pad to my back. It had been sore today, as well the entire previous day. But hell, I suppose being eight months pregnant will do that to ya!

"I don't know. I'm happy for the respite from the cold, but it's like winter over here!"

"It's not THAT bad." I shoved some potato chips in my mouth as Nene sat down on the couch next to me. "So what's up?"

"Just wondering if you needed anything. You know, for the baby."

"I think you and the others took plenty care of that when you threw me that baby shower a couple weeks ago." Just before my twenty-fifth birthday, Sylia, Nene, Linna, Mackie, and Pops had thrown me a surprise baby shower at Sylia's place. A crib, a thing to dispose of diapers in, nursing pads, bumpers for the crib, at least a dozen receiving blankets, clothes upon clothes, a backpack-thing to carry the baby in... If there'd been anything they'd missed out on, I didn't notice. They'd even brought the stuff over to my apartment the next day and rearranged my bedroom to make room for the baby things. My stuff was on one side, and the baby's things were set up on the other side. The bedroom suddenly seemed a hell of a lot smaller, but I didn't mind.

"I feel like I'm missing out on something though," she moaned.

"Besides the baby?" I kidded.

"Yeah, besides that. We got bath stuff, right?"

"Yeah."

"And the thing to put the baby in when you're giving it a bath?"

"Yes."

"A breast pump?"

"Nene, you got everything, ok? If I need something, I can go buy it myself."

"Going out in your condition? But the paparazzi—"

"They're making sure to steer clear of me," I deadpanned. "Hiroshi and Max are taking care of that."

At the mention of my Replicants bandmates, Nene sighed and scratched the side of her head in thought. "Your band...what are you going to do about that?"

"We were already planning on taking a little break after our tour. We'll just be expanding our vacation for a little longer, that's all." I cradled my stomach.

"Not going to quit to be a full-time mom?"

"Hell no. Just 'cause I'm gonna be a mom doesn't mean I won't be able to still rock."

She smiled. "I figured as much."

I nodded, then shoved another handful of potato chips into my mouth. Looking into the bag, I realized I was out. "Ah damn. I guess there IS something you could do for me, Nene."

"Need more chips?"

"Yeah. And maybe some sour cream."

"Ok," she chuckled. "I think there's a store about two blocks away that has those. I can grab some other things for you while I'm at it, if you want."

"Nah, just the chips and cream."

"Ok."

After Nene left, I ended up dozing off on the couch, something I'd been doing a lot of lately despite hardly being very active at all. But hell, I was eight months pregnant; that in itself was bound to use up a lot of my energy. When I woke up, I looked at the clock and saw it had been an hour since she left. I sat up and took a look on the kitchen counter for any signs of groceries, but there were none. She hadn't been back yet, damn. She'd probably run into one of her old AD Police comrades or something...or decided to get a 'few' treats for herself as well.

I winced as a sharp pain shot through my lower back. I arched it and kneaded the area with both hands, hoping that would help with the pain, but it didn't. I sighed and was about to lean back on the couch again when that pain shot through my back again, followed immediately by a heavy pressure down below.

"Fifth time today," I mused as I headed towards the bathroom to do my business, rubbing my back on my way in. _Probably gonna have to call Linna and get her to give me a massage. My back's killin' me!_

I dropped my pants and sat down on the toilet, ready to just get this over with so I could head back to my usual spot on the couch. I smirked as I recalled joking to the girls that with all the time I spent in the bathroom, I may as well have just installed a TV in there so at least I could enjoy myself while I was in there. Add some food and blankets and I could have stayed in there my entire pregnancy!

I grimaced as I felt the pressure between my legs increase, and when that bolt of pain shot down my spine again, I gritted my teeth and felt an incredible urge to just push. Push I did, but what resulted wasn't something that anyone would call your usual bathroom business. When I pushed as hard as I could, I felt something a LOT bigger than the usual stuff get pushed out, and it wasn't from the, ahem, usual spot, either. Instinct screamed at me to reach down and grab whatever was coming out, so I reached down and caught it before it fell into the toilet. I felt myself ready to faint when I saw what I had kept from falling into the toilet.

A small, pink, squirming, slimy thing was nestled in my arms, choking out several small cries. I couldn't explain what drove me to do it, but instantly I stuck my finger in its mouth and cleared it of whatever mucus was in there. The baby let out another loud cry before I held it against my chest, maternal protectiveness taking over.

I didn't have a thought in my head as I grabbed the nearest towel off of the rack and wrapped the baby in it, wiping the cottage cheese-looking stuff off of its skin and out of the wisps of hair on its head. With my thumb I wiped the goop from its face, and for the first time I was able to look into my baby's eyes. They looked up at me sleepily, probably wondering where it was and how the hell it got out here so quickly.

A wave of dizziness overcame me as the sudden punishment my body had gone through took effect. Holding the baby close, I sank to the floor and leaned against the wall, grunting when I passed something else between my legs: the placenta. I picked it up in one hand and just looked at it; it just looked like a lumpy piece of flesh, nothing that looked like it had sustained my baby's life for the past eight months. At that thought, I realized that the baby's umbilical cord was still attached. I had to cut it, but first I had to tie it off. I slowly reached over and grabbed some dental floss, snapped off a piece, and tied it around the cord. Then I grabbed some scissors, wiped them off on one of the few spots of the towel that was still clean, then snipped the cord cleanly in two.

The baby let out a few whimpers at the action.

"Shhh," I whispered. "It's alright."

I continued to wipe off the baby's arms and legs with the towel, and then when I went to wipe between its legs, I beamed and looked into its face, enthralled with what I'd just found out.

"You're a girl," I said softly, caressing her cheek. "You're my daughter..."

How long I sat there cradling my newborn daughter, I don't know, but the next thing I knew, I heard a startled gasp, sounding like it came from a certain redhead I knew.

I turned my head towards the sound, and there was Nene, standing at the entrance to the bathroom, dropping her bag of groceries to the ground. "P...P-P-Priss..." she stammered. "You...y-you..." She looked at the bathroom floor, then at my clothes, none of which were in the least bit clean anymore. "Why...didn't you t-tell..."

"I didn't know," I said, then managed a smile. "I think you should probably call Sylia."

All Nene could do was nod quickly, then run to the kitchen to make the call.


	9. New Duties

I didn't even remember getting smuggled out of my apartment and into Sylia's car; one moment I was on the fluid-covered bathroom floor with a baby in my arms, and the next I was being helped into said car. Nene had thrown several of my clothes into a bag, me having not packed an overnight bag for the hospital yet, and gave it to Sylia.

"Are you going to be ok?" the redhead asked.

"We'll be all right," Sylia replied.

"I still can't believe you didn't know you were in labor!" she sighed loudly, shaking her head in disbelief as she glanced at me and the tiny bundle in my arms.

"It was my back hurting, not my stomach. Last I checked, the back wasn't the spot I was gonna pop the baby out from," I said.

Sylia's car was only built to fit two people, so we wouldn't have been able to fit in a car seat to put the baby in, unless we intended on putting her in the trunk. So we drove to her penthouse with the baby tucked in my arms, already asleep. Little wonder; I bet she was traumatized by the whole experience, coming into the world so suddenly. I wanted to sleep too, but I couldn't at the moment; I woulda dropped her. I forced myself to stay awake until we got to the Lady 633 building. Once we did, she quickly ushered me and the baby onto the elevator and took us straight up to her penthouse. The next thing I knew, I was already in a fresh change of clothes and tucked into Sylia's bed, Mackie tending to the baby while Sylia checked my vitals.

"I'm fine," I spat for about the eighth time. "It wasn't that bad."

"Just a precaution, Priss," she said calmly. "I'm just making sure everything is coming out normal."

"I dunno if having a kid in a bathroom is normal."

"It's not as uncommon as you might think." She wrapped a cuff around my arm and took my blood pressure. "125/102. Good."

I ripped off the cuff and tossed it at her. "Done?"

"Not quite. Just relax." Moving the blood pressure monitor aside, she bent over and put both hands on my stomach. She started to move them around, pressing firmly yet gently.

"What's that for?" I asked, shifting my position in bed.

"I'm massaging the uterus. It helps it to shrink back to a more normal size."

"Oh." I laid back and relaxed. "Sylia…do you know why I had her this early?"

"Hmm?"

"She wasn't due till July."

"The baby was thirty-six weeks along, which means she was born full-term. I see no cause for concern." She turned to Mackie. "Have you checked her weight, Mackie?"

"Yeah, just did, Sis," he said. "3.1 kilograms. And she's forty-nine centimeters long."

"That sounds good," I said to myself.

"It is," Sylia affirmed. "All within the normal range. You have a healthy daughter."

"A daughter…" I whispered to myself. A tear sprang to my eye, and I quickly wiped it away with one finger; a rush of emotion at the thought of now having a daughter…and being a mom…suddenly left me on the brink of tears. "Is…is Mackie done with her?"

"I think so." She motioned for Mackie to bring the baby over to me. He placed her in my arms, wrapped in a light pink blanket. Reddish-tinted hands were curled up underneath a tiny chin, which then stretched as the baby let out a tiny yawn. The cottage cheese-looking stuff had been cleaned off of her, leaving her nice and clean and dry. I bent down and kissed her little hands, counting her fingers. Ten tiny, perfect fingers. I then put one hand on her head, getting the feel of her wispy hair, and gave her a tiny peck on her forehead.

This was my baby. This was who had made my body her home for the past eight months. The one whom my body had nourished and helped to grow. The one who made me go through phases of weird food combos and huge mood swings, who made me so emotional as to make me cry while watching commercials on TV.

"Do you have a name for her?"

I looked up. "Huh?"

"Have you decided on a name for her?" Sylia repeated.

"I…well, no," I said, flushing slightly. "I've thought about it, but nothing's really popped out at me." I'd thought of all sorts of names: American, Japanese, Indian, Arabic…but none had seemed to suit her. My own parents had given me an American name so I'd stand out from other kids, as opposed to being given a generic name like Sakura or Jennifer or Hikari. In the years since I'd been born, though, there had been a huge influx of foreigners into the country, so non-Japanese names slowly lost their exoticness. But even now, at age twenty-five, I had yet to meet another Priscilla.

It was one thing to have a unique name. It was another to have a name that was just plain weird. How many sane people would name their kids after fruit (Apple?!), or give them names that nobody would have heard of if it weren't for famous characters or celebrities (Elvis? Juliet?). I would never subject my kid to anything like that. All I wanted was to give her a name that would suit her.

"I need to think about it some more," I finally said, handing the baby to Sylia. "I'm totally whipped right now."

"I understand. There's no rush."

I yawned and laid back in bed. "Hey…I woulda expected Nene to be right on our heels. Where is she?"

"I told her to get some rest of her own and to come by tomorrow."

"I'm the one needing rest," I retorted.

"Yes," she agreed, then added with a wry smile, "but imagine the shock to her system when she returned from shopping and found one of her best friends covered in amniotic fluid, in the bathroom, with a newly-born infant in her arms!"

* * *

In the middle of the night, I was woken up by a tiny cry. I sat up, crawled out of bed, then fumbled around in the dark for the source, which didn't take long; Sylia had put the baby close by. I picked the baby up and rocked her, shushing her gently.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" I asked, my answer being more crying. I patted her butt; it was damp. I set her down on the floor, then undid her diaper. I wadded it up into a ball and tossed it into the trash. Then I inwardly cursed myself when I realized I had to have another diaper to put on her. I stood up, wincing when my stomach tightened up, then took a quick glance around as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I spied it on the kitchen table, and so after I went and grabbed it, I took a look inside.

_Thank God she remembered to pack stuff for the kid! I would've had to wring her neck!_

I took out a few of the wipes and wiped the baby, then ripped open the package of diapers and took one of those out. Unfolding it, I turned it this way and that, trying to figure out how it went. But both ends looked the same.

"Damn it," I cursed.

"Priss, do you need some help?" I heard Sylia ask. I turned around and saw her standing at the doorway.

"Yeah, I think so," I admitted, grunting. "I've…uh, never changed a baby."

"I'll show you how."

First, she showed me the proper way to wipe the baby, demonstrating with one of the wipes. Then, she lifted up the baby's legs, grabbing them gently by the ankles, and slid the diaper underneath. After dusting her privates with some baby powder, Sylia showed me how to strap on the diaper.

"Is that all?"

"Yes," she replied. "It's not as hard as the design of the diaper would have you believe."

"Ok, so why is she still crying?" I looked down at the baby in my arms, who had resumed her crying.

"She's probably hungry. You've not tried to feed her since you gave birth. Here, sit in the chair." She ushered me to a nearby chair, then had me sit down and lift up my shirt to expose my breast. She told me to first make sure the baby's head was above the rest of the body. Then, Sylia told me to pull the baby closer so that its lower lip was on the lower edge of the areola.

"Now lift her up so that her mouth fully encloses your nipple," she finished. "Her mouth should cover that as well as the majority of the areola."

I squirmed as I felt the baby start to suck, then widened my eyes at the unfamiliar sensation of warm fluid coming out of my nipple. "It's…it's working," I exclaimed, watching as the baby relaxed and sucked on my breast.

"Make sure to pull her away every once in a while to let her breathe. You don't want her to choke."

"Ok."

It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but Sylia said that it takes longer to get milk out of a breast than it does to get it out of a bottle. I just smiled; breast milk was better for the baby anyway. I looked down at her, gently sucking away, looking perfectly content. Although she was only a couple hours old, I could feel her tugging on my heartstrings. This tiny baby, who had been the result of one of the worst experiences of my life…I never expected her to be so beautiful.

Despite where she came from…I knew the minute she was born that I would die for her.


	10. Yumeko

"She's so cuuuute!" Nene cooed, rocking the baby in her arms.

"Nene, be careful! She's only a day old," Linna cautioned, looking like she was gonna jump out of her skin at how hard Nene was rocking my daughter.

"Give her here," I said, holding out my arms. Nene gladly handed her back to me, and I kissed her as I got her nestled against my bosom. "Hi there."

"Priss, she's just adorable!" the redhead squealed. "Makes me wish I had a baby!"

"What's stopping ya? Mackie's right over there."

"He's..." She flushed. "No. I don't see him being a dad."

"He's not a teenager with his hormones on fire anymore. I'm sure he's matured," Linna assured her.

Nene sat down next to me. "You still haven't told me her name."

"She doesn't have one yet."

"Why not?"

"Haven't come up with a good one." She opened her mouth to start spitting out suggestions at me, but I stopped her. "Don't gimme any more suggestions. I'll think of one myself."

"Ok, ok." She leaned down and admired my daughter. "I'm surprised at how dark her skin is. I've never seen a baby that dark. I mean, she doesn't look black, but her skin has an almost...Hispanic look to it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. But it's pretty. And I like her hair too. It's the same color as yours."

I kissed the baby on her forehead. "Yeah, just a little darker though."

"I wonder what color her eyes will be?"

_Not the color of her dad's eyes, I hope..._

"We won't know for a few weeks," Linna said, sitting next to me opposite Nene. "But she already has pretty, dreamy eyes as it is."

_Dreamy, huh?_

I smiled as I remembered the recent dreams I'd had, about a baby floating before me and waving, laughing. A baby that looked amazingly like the one in my arms right now. Had that been her introducing herself before she was even born yet?

Naaah.

"Yume...Yumeko," I whispered.

"Huh?" Nene said, looking at me.

"Yumeko. That's perfect."

"Is that what you're going to name her?" Linna asked.

Nene looked from me to the baby. "Hmm...Yumeko. Yumeko Asagiri." She looked at me again, grinning. "Yeah, that suits her just fine! I see it!"

"'Yume' for dream, and 'ko' for child," Linna mused. "How'd you come up with that? It is a pretty name."

"Welcome to the world, little Yume," I said softly, brushing a wisp of hair from her eyes.


	11. Epilogue

It didn't come across my mind for a while after I gave birth to Yume, but when it did, it hit me like a boulder. When I'd found out I was pregnant, my initial concern had been for my friends, and how I'd be able to help them if Genom started putting out Boomers again. But now that I had my daughter, I was worried sick all over again. What if we Knight Sabers had to don our hardsuits again? What was I going to do about my daughter? What would happen to her if I ended up hurt? Or killed?

As much as I missed the thrill of battle, I preferred the thrill of motherhood far more. For the first time, I prayed that Genom was out of the picture forever. I never wanted Yume to see a Combat Boomer with her own eyes; I prayed she'd never have to.

And as for her bastard father…I never would have admitted it to anybody, but part of me was scared of him. He'd know sooner or later that the child I bore was his; whether he'd give a damn or not, I didn't care. But what was I gonna do when Yume started asking about her dad? The truth? No…the truth would be too brutal for a little kid. Maybe when she was older, I'd tell her all the details. But right now, maybe I'd just tell her she didn't have a dad.

I hoped my status as a world-famous singer wouldn't affect her too much. Oh hell, what was I saying? Of course it would! I'd just have to teach her the best way to handle reporters, I guess. I wouldn't teach her the so-called 'one-finger salute' until she was old enough, though, heh. I was sure people wouldn't be too thrilled if they ever saw a picture of a three-year old flipping someone off! Oh well, to hell with them.

As for the Knight Sabers…

"Mama?"

We were sitting on the roof of our apartment building, sharing a lunch, when Yume turned and looked at the huge building in the distance. She was four years old.

"What, Yume?" I asked, biting into my sandwich.

"What's that big mountain over there?" She pointed at the building. "It looks funny."

"That's Genom Tower. That's where Boomers are made."

"Boomer robots?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like Boomer robots."

"I don't either, Yume."

"Can we break them?"

"I wish we could." I pulled her into my lap, at the same time smirking. A long time ago, I used to 'break' Boomers, but not anymore… "Some Boomers are good, and some Boomers are bad. The bad ones are the ones that need to be broken."

"What Boomer robots are bad, Mama?"

"Bad ones are the ones that hurt people. When they do, the police come out and take care of the Boomer."

"What if the police are hurt?"

I smiled and stroked her hair, gazing into her inquisitive eyes. So innocent…I hoped that innocence lasted forever. "Then another group of people comes out and takes care of the Boomer for them."

"What other group, Mama?"

"Well…let me tell you a story, ok?" I handed Yume the last of my sandwich; she grabbed it eagerly and bit into it. "It's about a group of people called the Knight Sabers…"


End file.
